Truffles
by Laine -Formerly SageRain
Summary: The trio eats some Chocolates that Spencer made, but didn't realise what was in them. A Seddie centric story. **Contains unintentional under age Psychedelic drug use and now underage sexual activity** Now Complete.
1. Mission: Ham Bathroom

****Authors Note: I do not condone or endorse using any substance that impairs your judgment, be it a prescription drug or an illegal one.****

Freddie Benson was seriously starting to doubt the truth of his best friends words, "Spencer spent all night on these chocolates, we better at least try them!"

What he had eaten were neither chocolates nor all night. They had tasted bitter, and slightly dry and very chewy. Nothing like a naturally flavored cocoa bar, or one of it's equally organic tasting cousins. Small morsels of off flavored chocolaty delight. He had eaten three and held a fourth of the foul chocolates before Carly grabbed his hand, his and the hand of the other girl in the apartment, a Ms. Sam "This Chocolate".

"Not so many! He said he wanted to take some over to Sockos tonight". With an apparent second though, she grabbed her third morsel, "Just one more!"

He had shrugged popped his last one in his mouth.

Sam it seemed, had managed at least one more then either him or Carly and now she was looking as green as he felt. She groaned aloud from the beanbag chair she was occupying in the studio room. Not only the queasiness, it seemed like the room hard started to spin ever so slightly in slow circles. The video that they had been watching seemed to be going in and out of the TV, Carly her brown hair spread out over the back of the red pleather bag, seemed to be fixated on the plasma tv screen with a strange intensity.

It was coming in waves now, the nausea and the swimming room. He was poisoned. That was it. Spencer was trying to poison Socko. Kill him for his Sock business. He wanted to tell the girls. It was very important they knew they were going to die here tonight. But no. No. He couldn't let them worry like that.

With a start Sam stood up. Her arms shooting back to stop herself from falling. Her arms were covered with a Long sleeved black shirt covered by a green and blue patterned t-shirt. Back as they were they grabbed for his shirt as she did stumble back wards. He squawked a muffled ouch, as she struggled to get back up muttering to herself.

With all the power he could muster he grabbed her on the small of her back and pushed her up.

"I gotta get to the bathroom, Freddork" she told him most seriously as she grabbed her stomach, " Maybe some fixin' ham."

With almost an after though she added, "Mama likes her ham."

Carly didn't even seem to have seen or heard Sam get up. He'd have to help the blond girl. He couldn't let her head down stairs by herself, she might not make it back up safely. With the greatest effort he stood up, slowly. The Squiggly rug squirmed like snakes under his feet, he almost jumped, but Sam was holding it down with her feet. He reached out for her pale white hand. It was paler then normal, but that was just a symptom of dieing, wasn't it. He had to get her downstairs.

With gentle firmness he pulled her toward the elevator, pushing the flickering button. As they waited her looked over at her. She was staring blankly at the hard wood floor next to his right sock. It undulated when he looked directly at it.

He reckoned it couldn't have been more then 30 seconds before the elevator door raised it's self, but it seemed so much longer. His hand still holding the blonds, he pulled her into the enclosed metal box. She stumbled onto him, her other hand catching her on his shoulder. He was pinned for a second. Her hand making a slow circle on his shirt. Touching three of the wide stripes with her palm. He froze as she felt the fabric. But she looked up quickly like she was just seeing him there for the first time.

"I... I'll get the door," He mumbled as he slid out from under her and leaned across the elevator and pressed the button that would take them to the first floor of the Shay's apartment. With a rumble the elevator slowly descended to the requested level. He stared at Sam, she stared at the door. He wasn't about to let her down, he would get her to the bathroom. He would get her to her ham.

As the door opened for the second time, she was too fast for him. With a recently undisplayed agility she sprinted from the elevator, a beeline to the bathroom.

Fredward aimed his self the other way to get "Mamas Medicine". The counter seemed to be reaching out to him. He shied away from them as he navigated toward the fridge. Surprisingly the fridge seemed to glow from the inside. Even before he grabbed the handle to peek inside. Fridges sparkling must be another sign that you're dieing he thought to himself as he peered at the shelves, his roving eyes roving for the hams.

Luckily it seems that she had already been into the ham as it was half gone and on top of some container. He grabbed the plastic coved meat and slammed the fridge door closed. He jumped slightly at the slightly squishy bang he'd never really analyzed. A second sound jarred his attention abruptly out of the kitchen.

Retch! Retch! Splash. Retch.

Sam was throwing up. His strides were long, and with ham in hand he made it to the bathroom. She was still holding onto the toilet bowl when he entered the room. Leaning over her long curly hair brushed over her shoulders.

"Are you alright?" He whispered coming in closer.

She only uttered one word, "Haaaaaam."

A good sign that she wasn't dead.

He shook his head, then realized she wasn't looking at him so he vocalized instead, "Wash your mouth out first."

She lifted her head to stare at him. Before Dry heaving once more. She stuck out her tongue. " Yeah."

Sam gripped the counter top with one hand as she levered herself up. With one hand snaking around her shoulders for support the other fumbled with the cold water handle. It sputtered to life. At once her hands cupped together to form a water receptacle which she quickly filled and brought to her red lips and sipped noisily from. She spit the water out into the sink. There was still brown coloured bits in it. Half digested chocolate. She drank again, This time when she spit it out it looked like it was coloured with a rainbow oil slick. Who knew Sam was full of rainbows.

She looked up at him. He looked down at the ham.

It was funny ham, not the same stuff he took out of the fridge, this was made up of something else. Like a million tiny o's only in meat form. But that was suddenly OK, and he wanted to put it in his mouth, not to eat it, but to roll an o around on hiss tongue. He turned the faucet off. The ham seemed to draw his hand. Sam had already begun to reach for it.

"It's made of O's,"He stated nonsensically,"I better taste it for you."

HE reached for the plastic covered meat, his hands trailing an after image in the air. They both had their hands on it. Freddie gripped her shoulder with the other hand and looked into her dilated eyes,"Trust me."

With her still gripping the other side of the ham, he brought it up to his mouth, slowly. Her eyes never left the meat as he licked it slowly trying to taste the o flavor. But it was just ham. He nibbled a bit of black rind from one side, it was amazing. Chewy and crisp and cold all at the same time. The saltiness making the sides of his tongue ache.

As Sam watched him her brow wrinkling as he rolled the piece in his mouth.

"So, is it safe?" She finally asked.

Freddie nodded and let go of the ham. She bit into it with a huge bite.

The bathroom light cast a yellowy light on the blond girl as she moaned out in pure pleasure. She could taste it to. Her eyes had rolled back and some of her weight was on his hand which he still wrapped around her shoulder. She moaned again, deep and throaty.

Mission Ham Bathroom was complete. He needed to return to home base: the Studio.


	2. Mission: Save Carly From Robots

It seemed strange to Freddie as him and Sam exited the bathroom, that the floor had turned into a conveyor belt. Conveyor belts weren't made of wood. He grabbed her arm as he gingerly stepped on the moving floor, fully expecting to be whisked off across the Shays living room. But the forward motion of the supposed floor didn't effect him at all.

HE looked over as Sam gripped his hand tighter.

"Did you see that?!" She pointed with her other hand at the pop bottle robot.

Freddie followed her motion with exaggerated carefulness. It shimmered but did not move. He shook his head.

She let go of his hand and punched him in the side of his ribs before gingerly stepping forward to examine the sculpture. That's what he liked about the shorter girl, she never backed down and didn't afraid of anything.

"He blinked Fredwad. I saw him blink."

The robot uprising, maybe they baked the chocolates to kill us. With eyes opening wider the closer she got to the robot, he watched. The silence hung in the room like a forty two inch landscape painting by a grand master.

Closer.

Closer.

Her fingers brushed the robots face when a muffled crash echoed down the stairs, then most silence. It took a second for both the teens to realize that it had come from upstairs instead of deep in the bowels of the plastic cyborg.

"Carly!" Their voices mingled in mutual concern.

He knew she was dead. The robots had got her as they distracted him and Sam. He grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch to cover her and started to scramble up the stairs. She had run to the elevator door. But when she saw him start up the stairs she followed. Her thumping followed him up one, two flights of stairs. They tried to grab his feet, but he was glad he was so fast. He hoped Sam would be as lucky. But as he rounded the corner to the hallway outside of the studio she was right there behind him, panting into his ear., breath ragged and hammy.

Thump Thump Thump. The floor fairly vibrated with bass. When did that start? The robots were celebrating one of his best friends demise.

He looked over his shoulder. The stair well seemed to be trying to suck ms. Puckett into it's depths, he brought her close and whispered seriously into her ear, "OK, here's the plan. I'll go in there and draw their fire and you snap their necks."

Sam's eyes went wide, "Their?"

"The robots that got Carly."

Her eyes unfocused for a second before she brought them back in line, focusing on the task at hand, "I just thought it was an apartment quake."

"Robots" He stated firmly. Who'd ever heard of an apartment quake?

"Right nub, lets hit it," She said as she discarded the rest of her ham on the floor. He dropped the would be shroud.

Freddie crept along the wall bordering the studio. Bricks lightly scarping his back through his striped shirt. He fumbled for the door handle.

Thump thump thump thump. Silence. Time to strike, as the son changed.

With a manly roar he threw open the door and charged in. Sam pushing him aside and sprinting at the robot invader.

The robot screamed in shock. The robot was Carly. Carly was not a robot.

"Sam! No!"

He watched her in what seemed like slow motion as she tried to stop short, failing, dodging around Carly, tripping on the Pearpod speakers which had been left on the floor and catapulting herself on top of the hood of the car.

Carly grabbed at Sam trying to pull her upright, "What is going on! Where were you guys?"

He strode towards the two girls deliberately, "We thought your were attacked by robots."

"What?!"

Sam looked uncharacteristically demure, "The crash. We heard a crash."

"Well that's no reason to think Robots were after me! Does it look like we're in any mechanical danger?"

Freddie looked at the pearpod cradle that Sam had fallen over and giggled an unmanly giggle. "Well you don't. But Sam!"

Samantha Puckett was not amused at his little jibe. He could tell. The knuckle cracking gave it away he thought. She was going to be the one to kill him. Not Spencer, not the Robots, Sam.

His giggling slowed down, but he couldn't stop it from leaking out. He clapped his hands over his mouth trying to hold in his mirth, but no. She was coming.

With exaggerated slowness Carly placed herself in between the two facing Sam, "What's the rule about beating Freddie?"

Sam rolled her eyes comically, "Don't hit the geek till he's bleeding."

"And?"

"Not at all in front of Carly."

"Right," the brown haired girl affirmed. "Now lets just slow down guys. It's just a little mixed up in here."

You could say that again he thought. This whole afternoon had been one huge fiasco, poisoned killer robots, orgasmic ham. Ham, he wanted something his mouth. Something to roil around, and chew.

The beat of the music thrummed back after an apparently slow and silent song. It wasn't something they normally listened to, more Bass, electronic instruments and of course no cute boy or pop teen idol singing. He wanted to move his feet, but he wanted something in his mouth more.

Carly, still between him and Sam, started to move her hips to the beat. Moving them once every two beats as if her hips we possessed with an old mambo dancer. He saw the same after trails his hands had made earlier only with her torso. She spun around still moving her hips, eyes glazed over as all her concentration seemed to be in the music. Her black jeans seemed to merge with her Pink and silver hoody, the lighter pink shirt she wore under it just peeking out of the three quarter closed zipper.

Sam seemed to have been taken over as well, sitting back on the car hood her legs bounced with the music. She was wearing khaki clam diggers, a good six inches of flesh between the bottom of her pant cuff and her ankle socks. That's what he wanted to taste, the thought creeping into his head as he watched them jiggle. Calves.

"No," he said out loud. The two girls didn't seem to hear him, probably for the best. Crazy and dieing a bad combination.

He remembered the discarded ham in the hall. That would have to do for his mouth issues. There was no way Sam wouldn't kick him right in the teeth if he tried.

With a little more confidence and volume he declared, "I just need to get something from the hallway. Don't go anywhere. Sam."

Sam must have looked up, but he was already working his way through the studio towards the door.

Mission: Save Carly From Robots, complete.


	3. Mission: Bad Rhyming

****Authors note: I really appreciate the feedback you guys. I'm glad someone enjoys my kinda terribad Carly fiction. Work is picking up this next month, but I'll make sure to put some time aside for this oddness. And maybe a few of the other plot bunnies that are breeding around in my brain.****

The door leading to the hallway out side the iCarly studio looked both impossibly big and impossibly small in front of Fredward. He had no idea how he was going to fit through, but his legs seeming to be working towards his goal even if he had reservations about it. Eyes closed he took the last few step to and through the door. Remarkably he pushed through.

Behind his closed eyes he got a glimpse of the door frame shattering as he crashed though it. As he opened his eyes though he knew it was a vision, a vision of what would happen if he ever went through a doorway with his eyes open. He was determined not to let that happen.

He spotted the object of his quest. Mouth watering ham.

He bent over to reach it. His world suddenly turning with him. Well not suddenly, he mused, it's been turning for a while. With thick fingers he scooped the half covered meat off the hard wood floor.

Almost straightening up he remembered Carly's shroud, aka the living room blanket. With a less then fluid reach he grabbed that too, it was just about time for a lay down. Slowly but not surely he straightened back up and started the short trek back to the studio.

The door frame was still changing sizes when he reached it, with confidence this time he shut his eyes and walked in.

"Freddie!!" Came Carly's shriek of fear before he had time to open his eyes.

"Yes?!" He responded forgetting to open them with the unexpected vocal bombardment.

"Why are your eyes closed? You should never go into the mouth with your eyes closed!"

The mouth? Oh the door, I guess it kind of looked like a mouth opening and closing. He smiled and opened his eyes looking straight at the still swaying Carly, "Can't hurt me. Teeth'll break."

Her face screwed up into a classic shape of Carly puzzlement for a while as they both stood there. She finally nodded, brow still knitted together. The beat of the music changed again and it seemed to hypnotize her back into a random dance trance. It rhymed. Carly seemed to rhyme, although that didn't make much sense, she usually would need to speak to rhyme but it seemed like her gyrating did that for her.

She moved off the carpet more towards the raised platform portion of the room where her dancing wouldn't be impeded by the carpet, the car or chair.

The bean bag chairs were ripe for sitting. Despite feeling the need to join Carly in her rotating, he wanted to just lay down and enjoy the calve.

The ham!

Not the calve, the calve would have him bleeding from the worst head wound of his life.

With the expertise born of making his bed most of his young life he fluffed out the ham. The Blanket, he fluffed out the blanket over the carpet, it's crazy rainbow pattern almost flying off the fabric all over the car and Sam. Thankfully it didn't though, her eyes still closed he half lay on the beanbag using it as some sort of large beany pillow, the blanket coving both bean bags and a large section of carpet.

He started to lay down on it, his hand rubbing the impossibly soft covering, he traced a small pattern with a finger before letting himself relax horizontally on it.

The ham was still in his other hand, the softness on his hand had almost make him forget about his mouth treat. With growing anticipation he raised the meat to his face and opened his mouth wide, shutting his eyes. He pictured the ham a giant space wars ship pulling into dock in his mouth, hundreds of tiny pilots running around inside as he bit down.

Then something was on top of him, something warm and moving. This wasn't space. His eyes snapped open, his lips still on the preserved pork, his teeth just barely separating one piece from the other. He almost reflexively swallowed it , but he mouth sensations were too much to give away. Samantha Puckett was on him. Her hands on either side of his torso, her legs both off to one side, her body half over him.

He was easily doomed.

"You got ma ham boy," She drawled.

How did she know? Did she have super human ham hearing?

It appeared she didn't though, a moment after she made the accusation she was kneading the blanket he was laying on like a cat. A golden cat. A dangerous mountain lion cat. He did swallow at the implications, but it was just the excess saliva in his mouth, not the mouth treasure he held inside it with his tongue,

The soft hand movements stopped at the sound of his throat moving. She did have it, the ham hearing.

He moved his hands and what was contained in them out from between his lips and let go with one of them, laying it down to brace himself against the attack. He tried to appease her with his eyes, entreating her not to kill him, just this once. His silent pleas seemed to have worked.

She leaned in closer and grabbed the ham in her startlingly white teeth before flopping down next to him on her back.

She was laying on the beanbag he was, and his arm. He was trapped by her weight, it was too much to lift off, even if she didn't have the rest of the ham. That was OK though with Freddie. He wasn't dead yet.

The ceiling consumed his view as soon as he became occupied his mouth with it's world. The wooden beams got so close he could almost touch them, not that he could lift that arm. His vision swam.

He looked over, Sam.

Mission: Bad Rhymes, complete.


	4. Mission: Hair Communication

***You guys are great you know XD How can I not keep writing when I get such great reviews~ More hilarity on it's way, thanks to you, the viewer!***

He had been laying there for a while. The ceiling still swam in his vision and he swam too. The waves that had once been nausea had transformed into something a lot more pleasant and a lot less chunky. He was floating in the dark recesses of the ceiling, the wooden beams almost stroking his body. He couldn't quite describe it although he kept trying to quantify it in his mind. It was almost like a waking dream, but some how a lot more real.

It was real, the ceiling was really stroking him now, back and forth across his chest. Straight lines back and forth on top of his shirt. Even widths apart he realized. The wood was very thorough. Like it was following a pattern on his being.

The deep bass faded to nothing. He blinked, his eyelids containing blirriant frame exprosions, that exploded out of his optic nerves. As his eyes opened the wood seemed to be a solid object once more and several feet above him.

The rhythmic stroking continued though much to his surprise.

The music changed tempo again, upbeat male and pop, medium fast, no heavy bass.

He could still hear Carly dancing, he sock feet making a pleasant swish swash as she moved on the hard wood floor a good five feet from where him and Sam lay.

Sam!

She was still there. He looked over with great difficulty at the lioness. She was perfect, eyes glazed over as she ran her hand along the lines of his shirt. That's who was doing it! He knew the rafters weren't that gentle. He hadn't suspected her hands could be that soft though. It was nice. Just light brushing, not poking or jabbing or pinching.

A start contrast to the softness on his chest was the off tingling feeling in his arm. He let his eyes wander to his shoulder and follow it till it disappeared underneath the girl beside him. She wasn't heavy exactly he mused, she was just laying on it in such away that it just inhibited the blood flow. He didn't really want to move it though, because really? When would the next time he would get a chance to have his arm around Samantha Puckett? They'd be dead soon anyway.

He chocked suddenly, he'd almost forgotten. Sam blinked sluggishly and looked up at him. He was sure his face would give him away if she looked at it too long so he did the only thing he knew how to do. In one motion he half rolled onto his side and using his already under her arm and pulled her to his chest hugging her to him.

Both her hands were between them. The were small he remembered, but they felt large. He wanted to look at them, but he had to compose himself. Before he could though she'd uttered a muffled something. Pressed into his shirt like that, he couldn't hear a word she was saying.

With composure born of distraction he let her fall back a bit so he could hear her.

"Huh?" He was articulate.

She looked at him blue eyes almost sucking him in, "I said: I really hate stripes."

"Yeah?" He countered wittily.

"Yeah nub."

"Oh,"He needed to talk to someone about the script. His lines were all mixed up. He considered an addendum to his last line, "What do you want me to do about it?"

She thought about it for a moment. Her eyelids only raised to half mast, only half dragged him in, small portholes surrounded by a sea of Sam.

"Take it off," she suggested in her third best commanding voice. It was a strong suggestion, but he didn't think it would get ripped off him if he didn't comply, or at least that's what the panel of Sam experts said. They thought he should do it though.

While he conferred, the slowest ripping ever commenced, he didn't even realize it at first but she had lifted his shirt with one of her hands and the second slid silently in between the fabric and his skin. It wasn't until the very tips of her fingers brushed the topmost of his abs did he realize what was happening.

HE doubled up like he was shot. That tickled! He let go of her and tried to back away, wiggling his body like a snake covered in ants. Her hand still clung to his shirt as he wrestled his arm out from under her. The blanket they were laying on bunched and coiled about him, dragging Sam along for the ride.

After a dozen seconds of frantic activity he pushed himself up onto an arm, yes wide and puffing like he had run up the Shays stairs again. He looked franticly around the room for safety in a brunette body. She was farther away mentally then physically. The back of her hoodie was just visible as she delved into the world of the stage curtain.

He looked back at Sam, still gripping his ugly striped shirt. She met his eyes and lifted it an inch more. His abs burned where she had touched them. He didn't know why, but he wanted to burn all over like that. Her right eyebrow arched.

He didn't know what that meant. Girls were weird like that. Speaking with their hair. If he was ever to get her to understand he would have to talk her language.

He slowly raised his right eyebrow.

Hers lowered, a good sign. Well her brow lowered, her hand raised higher.

That wasn't the right response! He raised both eye brows fast twice in an attempt to scare her off with his, no! Get away you!

He didn't think it translated well into girl. She'd reached over with her second hand and raised the cloth to where it was trapped underneath his arms. She tugged it up into his armpits and smiled. Almost reflexively he raised his arms above his head and as they lifted the shirt got pulled over.

Stunned he held his arms half up, elbows bent as her eyes worked their way over his bare chest.

Mission: Hair Communication, failed.


	5. Mission: Sam Plateau

****lol I'm such a tease. I really was expecting to get the sexytiems last chapter, but before I knew it it was coming to a close and there was nothing I could do about it but hope no one got too mad at me for it . Caffeine is a go, so story is a go!****

Freddie Benson had never wanted anything more in his life then this. Well other then living through this afternoon that is. But if he was fated to be taken by... what ever force was threatening them, then this would be first.

Sam, who was half laying half sitting not a foot from him was eying his bare chest like it was some sort of meaty snack. She wasn't even holding his shirt anymore, he idly wondered what had happened to it. A puzzle for another time perhaps. He was feeling dizzy again, his eyes tunnel visioning the blond , the rest of the room tilting wildly.

He scooted for ward slightly, hands trying to smooth out the wrinkles he made in the patterned fabric, he looked down at it, and half noticed that she'd also redirected her hungry gaze to the blanket covering the floor. He scrunched it up in his hand watching the shapes shift. Another hand joined his and they began pulling at it together. The unexpected shapes trying to send him a message.

It all fell into place. They both saw it, the heart in the sand. He knew it some how, that they could make a heart if they tried, a red beating chest heart. The music so low he could feel his beating heart in his rib cage striving to meet and connect with hers.

He reached out with his hand, or what he thought was his hand and put it squarely over her heart. He felt it. Had it always been there and he'd never noticed? Or was this some new invention she'd devised for torturing him? No, she'd been using it to torture him for a long time.

Bu bum.

Bu bum.

Her hair said nothing as she reached up and covered his heart with her hand. They were connected now. They had formed a sand heart and now they'd connected theirs. Like a live circuit her electricity, her energy flowed into him, the burn from her fingers before was nothing like the intensity that he felt now. It was melting a hole in his ribs, his flesh, if she just closed her fingers they would be around his heart and she could take it where she willed.

But did she will it?

He probed her mind with his.

"Freddweeb..."

It distracted him for just a moment, and then she was coming at him too fast. She was going to crash into him. But he couldn't look away. Her face crossed the gap between them her lips meeting his, their eyes almost touching. The fire was there too, on his lips.

The smoke triggered the alarm inside him, his lips parted so he could escape into her mouth. Her eyes closed as her mouth responded. His closed a few seconds later. Mind transported to their highest connection, he was there, on his tongue a small Freddie. He peered through the large fleshy portal into Sam and urged his platform forward, caressing the sides of their connection with his hands as he passed through. She was there on her tongue. They met again, standing this time, hands reaching for each other, mouths connecting.

And then he was there inside his smaller mouth riding the smaller tongue as it entered her mouth once again, more urgent this time. A smaller her joined him. They crushed their mouths together, battling.

And then he was smaller inside the inside, a recursive loop that he never wanted to leave. The warm wetness, the passion, dare he say it the love he felt, building the smaller he got.

Each time he found himself on a smaller tongue he pushed harder forward till they were falling, Slowly into the abyss. With a jolt he opened his eyes, all of his eyes and he was back on the floor with Samantha Puckett, on hand to her chest, one on her back and they were laying.

That must have been the bump he thought. He needed to get back into his mouth, but when he closed his eyes again the sensation didn't begin again. So he left them open, watching her face, eyes closed in concentration, brow slightly furrowed.

He was urgent, but more gentle then he had been when he'd been trying to get inside her. Lovingly he caressed and licked her mouth, her tongue, her teeth, her gums. Time stretched out like the music. They were stuck in the present while the world moved around them.

The music got hard again, bass picking up and from under him in seeming response Sam arched up against his body. The space between his larger and her smaller torso decreased till all he could feel was the sweet sliding of her fabric against his chest. Her hand still in between them raked through his skin and brushed his beating blood organ

The sound that came out of him surprised him, low and almost feral. She had him and he had to have her. Had to.

Following his baser instincts he broke off mouth contact and floated down her body. One hand still behind her back, he used his heart connecting hand to work her shirts up, the top a green blue pattern, the lower back and tight. He followed the cloth up with his face centimeters from her perfect white stomach.

He landed on the plain with no effort, her skin soft against him. He used his mouth to slowly climb her heights, nibbling a wet path across the valley. The tiny hairs brushing his lips like the softest mountain wild flowers. It was a long trek before he reached the valley walls, he gazed up to the cliffs of her rib cage above. Deep brown eyes wide.

How could he ever make it up that high. With a clumsy start he used his suction to start to ascend to the top.

He hadn't noticed it before but she had grabbed him, her hand helping him long. A divine hand showing him the righteous path.

Wet sucky kiss after wet sucky kiss he slowly made it over the edge. From this vantage point he could see her twin mountain peeks. They were covered with some sort of additional fabric. He couldn't quite make the connection between the covering and a bra, it was just too forgien.

He stood on the edge staring and the mountains heaved and rolled with Sams heavy breathing.

Suddenly his guide was gone and the whole world was moving, more so then before, and after a struggle to hang on the taunt fabric fell slack and then his guiding hand moved it away.

"Oh," Was the only sound he could make. The air here was too thin for too much talking.

The voice from the heavens spoke, "Like what you see, dork?"

"Yes," he breathed. They were perfect. Rounded and slightly flat from the gravity, a perfect curve for his assent. The tops were a light pink around the edges sharpening to a half stiff but darker pink point.

He used his tongue this time. Inching forward with each small lick. It was hard to hold on as she panted in further expectation. He reached the top and took a broad swipe with his tongue and she nearly screamed, he heard it as a sharp intake of breath run through her vocal cords.

It stirred more base urges in him and he licked again, this time with a stiffer and more pointed tongue. This time the sound came out as a moan. The flesh under his mouth hardening further.

Again and again he passed over the one nipple. Her cries driving him mad.

Suddenly a different sound came from father away. Still girly the sound confused him. The fog in his head parted as he comprehended exactly what it was, Carly.

It seemed she had found her way out of the curtain jungle and now was staring at them. He looked over, mouth still on Sams bare chest. Looking for all the world like a dog caught in the garbage.

"What?" He mumbled around Sams nipple.

"That's so gross you guys!"

With a surly and lust filled voice Sam responded for both of them, "Don't knock it till you try it Carls."

Carlys eyes still wide her mouth working like a fishes, she seemed to ponder the thought.

Mission: Sam Plateau Complete?


	6. Mission: Planet Shifting

**** I know I make it seem like a threesome is coming! But I lie.**

**And then I lie about lieing. 'Cause a threesome is coming, just not in the cannon story. I AM DETERMINED TO MAKE THIS SEDDIE TO THE END.**

**I'll be putting the OT3 in a separate branch off from this fic. Sort of a Chapter 6b if you will because I can smell it just like you can and it is yummy, but not quite what I had in mind for this . Curse my naughty fingers and all that.****

Carly Shays pondering was as short as it was troubled. Freddie could see a whole mix of emotions coming off his brown hair best friend, but none of them were positive. With a sudden explosion of sound she shouted, "No!"

He jolted at her outburst, he didn't think her refusal would be that violent, but really what was he expecting, for her to join him and his blond goddess in their holy quest?

He watched Cary try and work out what to do next. It was clear that she didn't want to be around while her two friends were in her apartment half naked and on top of each other. But it was also clear that she wasn't thinking straight and she wanted to stay where the thumping beats were.

"Suit yourself," Sam was being flippant, but it was clear that she wasn't ready for Carly to break up what ever was going on here. Her hand tangled again in his hair and moved him across the valley in between her peaks over to the second point. His body focusing by instinct on the task at hand his mind slowly lost it's focus on the other girl.

He sucked the nipple into his mouth and Sam gasped. He marveled at the texture. Having the nub in his mouth was completely different then just licking it on her body. It was almost like having that small piece of ham in there. It was amazing. He swished it back and forth with his tongue, nipped at it lightly with his incisors and pulled it deeper in and let it go with the suction her created. She bucked and squirmed under him, a delightful earthquake of girl flesh.

Her hand tightened in his hair and brought his head up and back. Her hair was a mess, the curly strands frizzy and everywhere but in line. His vision swam and the hair seemed to glow like the smallest fiber optic cables he's ever seen. She was looking at him with such an expression of need, her small sarcastic mouth puffing as she tried to pull her thoughts together enough to talk. He raised himself up a bit on his hands so he didn't crush her. His large body seeming to be unnaturally unwieldy.

The movement though pressed his pelvis into her crotch and he groaned loudly.

What was that?

Oh yeah, his penis. When had that gotten so hard? His face flushed, the burning of her touch nothing compared to the burning on his face. His mother always talked about his boy parts like they were some sort of mistake that should never be talked about. Obviously he realized in the last few years that they felt good when he touch them, but the values his mother instilled in him made him embarrassed of his nether regions. What girl would want to feel that poking at her?

His pleasure at the contact swiftly turned to fear of what the girl under him thought of his hot need. He opened his eyes expecting mortification from Sam.

But that was not the case, if anything her eyes were more clouded over with lust Her mind slipping away from him, but her body responding. She rose up to meet him grinding her fabric covered crotch against him. He bit his lip and froze. This was not what he was expecting, but oh god did it feel good.

"Sam?" He managed, before she ground into him again, "Oh ffff- Sam..."

Her eyes opened again, brow slightly frowned as if she was annoyed that he wasn't pushing back.

He tried to put all his insecurities into words, but it just came out, "I-I-I... Sam."

She came back to herself a bit more, rolling her eyes at him like she always had when he was unable to say something stupid. She purposefully ground against him again, when he didn't respond with the proper pressure she got that mountain lion look again.

His world turned round. The horizon of this strange planet shifting it's axis till her was flipped onto his back. The golden tree fronds falling around his head catching and trapping small motes of light and beauty in their clutches. He felt the pressure of pleasure grind again, this time down from the top on. She certainly didn't mind his member at all.

Crisis averted his mind started to wander again, the reality of the situation slipping from his grasp as he became lost again in this strange bumping that he wasn't intentionally causing. It was so good though, he wanted to feel more of what this golden world of Sam had to offer.

It wasn't long before both of them were puffing and panting. It wasn't his hands though that fumbled with the belt keeping his legs on. He was lost when he looked down between their bodies, the twin plains of skin so close together that he could barely make out her hands fumbling with the tricky buckle. He reached around her trying to help, his fear of being exposed drowning in a sea of pure need. Their combined efforts finally freeing the closure on his straining lower body.

She left him to it, she half rolled off him and started to fumble with her own. With her off to the side he could breath a bit again, the music still pounded and he scanned the room for Carly. She was no where in sight. With that information he shimmied out of his lower coverings and pushed them off to the side. Even his socks. He thought of folding them. He'd never attempted cloth origami, but no he didn't have time for that now.

She was on him again in an instant, almost as bare as he. He felt rather then saw her last piece of clothing. She was still wearing her underwear. It was a surprise, she had been the one who was so interested in removing her cloths and now she was sitting here, on top of him, one small barrier in between them, fingers tracing their way around his hips.

His penis twitched, attempting to push her up and fully around him. But that's not what it seemed like she had in mind. With one hand she pulled the blanket around them, He didn't thin she might be getting cold, her skin exposed like this.

The soft fabric embraced them. They were safe inside here. The world was no longer just her, the warm womb encircled them, making the light shift and change. Instead of the light her long yellow tresses were the dark. With legs straddling him, she pressed her small frame down on him.

He caught his breath as she ground the flimsy and wet piece of fabric between them.

Mission: Planet Shifting Complete.


	7. Mission: Continued Survival

**** You guys have been great! This is the last chapter to Truffles and I hope you enjoy it. Reviews make my E-Peen big. **

**Also: Remember kids Drug are bad, mmmkay? Mushrooms, the drug featured here in this story, aren't the innocent unsuspecting drug I portray here. Do not use this is as a drug guide or a base for your own experimentations. Please learn more about them and get them from a reliable source if you insist on using them.****

Freddie Benson was almost painfully hard. The girl on top of him causing this not so unfortunate situation seemed to be enjoying herself as much, if not more then he was. Who would have ever thought that this was going to be the way he spent his final afternoon alive? Certainly not him.

He could smell Sam, the cocoon of blanket intensifying everything that was in it. It was salty and hot and it was slowly turning off all nonessential systems. He could smell his own arousal too, musky. His mother system turned off and her started to move his hips in the opposite direction of hers. The damp friction making him cry out.

She had started making small squeaks of pleasure at the peak of his up stroke. He placed his hands on her sides, wanting to touch her, and claim her as his own. He tried to move his upper body up too to catch her mouth, but she was too far away. The multicolored blanket showing him snakes of light playing over them, keeping her from him.

Suddenly the feelings on his penis changed, the rubbing had been replaced. He was trapped. Some how she's maneuvered in front of his penis lifting it up with her pelvis, the tip sitting at her entrance. Not just sitting, straining forward, the damp fabric starting to go up inside her. It was torture.

But it was one torture he could not endure from Ms Puckett. He reached down in between them this time and pulled her off himself, removing her panties from one leg.

She pushed him back down.

"Are you ready nub?" She panted.

He growled in needy response.

That was all she needed, leaning forward on top of him, she grasped his length and with just a little jerk she brought him to her entrance. The second her wet lips touched the tip of his penis he knew he couldn't stop it. Not that he could stop it before. The last bit of his control slipped away as he thrust up into her, fireworks flashing over his still open eyes, Their twin cries at the penetration muffled by the blanket.

She lifted herself up and he lowered down slowly. The second thrust was more intense if that was possible. Her body devouring him. Another slow penetration, and another. Their bodies meeting again and again.

If it had been any other time and place he would have orgasmed in the first five thrusts. But there was just something holding him back. He was going to die from not cumming. Die right here inside of her. He had to try harder. He rose his hips up bucking into Sam. Her pelvis slamming down onto him.

It seemed to stretch on for hours as they writhed together. The beat of the music heavy in their ears, their body's following it where ever it took them. The sounds they made only enhancing the natural flow of the beat.

With a cry louder then the rest suddenly the girl onto of him shuttered, and clamped down on him in more then one way. Her vagina clenching him, rolling in waves of pleasure and her mouth finding his neck and biting out the surge of release. He pounded a few more times into that sweet soft cavern before he finally lost himself into the universe. Their spirits finally flying free of their bodies into the cosmos.

It was dark when he came back to his body and sticky. It took him a moment to realize that he wasn't dead. Sam was still half laying on him, her chest rising and falling attesting to her continued survival as well. Her weight and state of dress brought back the flood of slightly disjointed memories of the hours of the day past. If the evidence of what he had done hadn't been right before him he would never have believed what had happened.

They were still wrapped in the blanket, her sweaty body covering his right side, both her arm and leg laying over him.

If this had been any other day he would have been mortified, but what ever had been in those chocolates had tempered the effects of his panic center. He let the other emotions play over him. The elation and the fear. He'd found something this afternoon, she had touched his heart and he had touched hers. In the secret recesses of his mind he knew he'd been toying with the idea of him and Sam ever since their first kiss all those months ago. He didn't know if it was the substance, his lust or his heart that had been driving. But that was ok. They'd have time to figure it all out afterwards.

He shifted a bit and placed a kiss on Sams forehead. He held her closer as her eyes fluttered open and her mouth closed. He looked down with such a sense of peace when his eyes met hers. She smirked up against him as he could only assume similar thoughts were going through her head.

"Shower?" He croaked, his throat not used to forming words, but his expression radiating a new found confidence.

"Only you'd think of soap in at a time like this dork," Her words were playful.

She slapped him on the chest, hard enough to cause a sting of pain, but not hard enough to show she was actually displeased. She smiled wide as she got up onto wobbly legs. He started to push himself up, a hand was there in front of him. Her hand. He grasped it and pulled himself up.

He might not be dead, but this sure was close to heaven.

Mission: Continued Survival Complete.

The End.


End file.
